


Memories of a Ghost

by ghouls_buddy



Series: Potential Fics [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Umbrella Academy (TV) Fusion, F/M, Gen, Reader is eighth child, Reader-Insert, but its only implied in this part, would be klaus x reader if i continue it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghouls_buddy/pseuds/ghouls_buddy
Summary: After receiving an invitation to the funeral of Sir Reginald Hargreeves, you return to the place you swore you would never go back to in search of who had sent it. After all, no one there knows about your existence.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Reader
Series: Potential Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116680
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Memories of a Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of a potential fic. Not sure if anymore will be written.

Looking up at the all too familiar building in front of you, your heart felt as though it was going to explode. It had been over a decade since you had last been here, stood in the same position, only then you were leaving. Something you think you should be doing now. You had no reason to be here, not sure why exactly you had come. You had already missed the funeral, the invitation that had unexpectedly shown up at your door dated it to yesterday. You had discovered the passing of Sir Reginald Hargreeves the same way that everyone else had done, the living room tv announcing the sudden breaking news, though it had hit you harder than most others, harder than you had expected it to. And how could you explain to your roommate why the death of a random billionaire had you locked away in your room, crying. That, even though they were the worst years of your life, he had still raised you and, for good or bad, made you into the person you were today. Would she even believe you if you told her the truth of who you really were.

That you were the mysterious Umbrella Academy “Ghost”.

Of course, you weren’t actually a ghost, you were very much a living person, the name being the superhero persona you were given as a child, and then the story you had invented to fill in the gaps of the memories you had stolen from your family when you left. To them, it was as though you had never existed.

Which is why the funeral invitation was so unexpected. Who could have sent it when the only person who knew of your connection to the strange family was dead; and how did they know where to find you? The need for answers to these questions is what had led you here, to the place you had once considered home. A place you had sworn you would never go back to. At least that is what you had told yourself, but you would be lying if you said you had never thought of coming back before now. Taking a deep breath, you reach out to knock on the large wooden doors in front of you, a voice from behind startling you.

“y/n?” You quickly turn to see who could possibly know your name, your heart dropping to your stomach when you are met with a familiar face; a face that hadn’t changed since you last saw it seventeen years ago.

“Five?” You ask, though it comes out barely above a whisper.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” He says, walking past you to open the door that you had been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Likewise.” You didn’t know when he had returned, going missing years before you had left, and even more curiously, why he hadn’t appeared to have aged in all this time.

“I guess we both have some explaining to do.” He gestures for you to follow him in, heading straight to the kitchen, while you walk behind, taking in the house you had grown up in. Nothing had really changed, though it was much quieter now, feeling almost empty. You slide into a chair at the kitchen table, refusing Five’s offer for coffee.

“I can figure out what you did, leaving and wiping away everyone’s memories so that they wouldn’t come looking for you, it explains why you weren’t mentioned in Vanya’s book, and why you weren’t with the others in the apocalypse.” He starts saying, taking the seat opposite you. You notice that, while his body was the same as the teenager you had once known, his mannerisms were more reminiscent of a man much older.

“The apocalypse?” You question, but he continues talking as though you had never spoken.

“What I don’t understand is why you came back? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here, saves me the trouble of trying to find you. But, why are you here?”

“I was invited.” You answer, pulling the funeral invitation out of your coat pocket and sliding it across the table to him. “Did you say apocalypse?”

“By who?” He asks, not acknowledging that you had asked a question yourself.

“I don’t know. That just turns up at my door, minutes after the news broke about da-Reginald.” He studies the invitation, confusion written over his face. “That’s why I’m here, to find out who sent it. Who knows about me and how.” He nods with understanding, folding the invitation and sliding it into the pocket of his blazer, the same blazer you had all worn as children.

“It is strange.” He tells you, standing from the table, making to leave the room.

“Wait!” You call, and he stops, looking at you expectantly. “What about you? I have so many questions.” He rolls his eyes, reluctantly returning to his seat.

“The day I left I had successfully time travelled, but I went too far, ending up in the future and getting stuck in the apocalypse for over forty years. I finally managed to get back, but something went wrong and now I’m stuck in my 13-year-old body. Now I need to figure out how to stop the apocalypse that is due to happen in seven days from now.” He quickly explains, and you stare at him in shock.

“Anything else?” You shake your head, still trying to process everything he had just told you. He smiles at you before standing and leaving the room, turning back to you as he stood in the doorway. “We’ll need your help to stop this, so stick around.” He says before disappearing into the rest of the house, leaving you alone to think about what he had said. 

You wondered if this was the real reason you had been invited here, though you still had no idea who could have sent it to you. You didn’t have long to think about it though, the sound of voices in the hall sending panic shooting through you. Quickly standing, you slip out of the kitchen before anyone has the chance to see you, finding your way out to the courtyard. You still hadn’t decided what you were going to say to the others if you happened to run into them. Would you tell them the truth, admit that you were one of them, and that they had once known you? Or lie? Though you had yet to come up with something that would be convincing. You needed to come up with something soon though, since it appeared you would be around much longer than you had anticipated.

Walking over to a fallen statue, you crouch next to it, recognising it to be of your late brother, Ben. You hadn’t stuck around long enough to know about it being put up, having left the night of his funeral, Ben’s death being the thing to have pushed you to leaving.

\---

_The house had been silent for a couple of hours now, so you figured if you were going to do it, it would have to be now. You quietly got out of bed, getting dressed as quickly as possible and sliding on the jacket that you had hidden behind your closet. For nearly a year now you had been filling the pockets with bits of change you had found, hoping to have made enough to pay for a bus ticket out of the city. You weren’t sure how much was actually in there, but that didn’t matter anymore, you couldn’t stay here any longer. Shoes in hand, you tiptoed down the hall, sliding into the next room; Vanya’s room. Walking over to her bed, you place a hand on her forehead, careful not to wake her. You knew you didn’t have time for goodbyes, your father, or at least Pogo, likely watching the CCTV they had hidden around the house. Closing your eyes, you shift through all her memories of you, wiping them away and replacing them with something new; a faceless ghost, conjured by Klaus, who would help them on missions and with their training._

_You had managed to get around three other rooms, Diego, Allison and Luther’s, before you heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. You quickly ran into Klaus’s room, shutting the door before you could be seen. Walking over to the sleeping boy, you took a shuddering breath. This was always going to be the hardest one. You had spent sleepless nights thinking of a way to take him with you, but there was no way to remove you both, not when he was all over the Umbrella Academy merchandise. Your power had allowed you to remain anonymous, the ability to make people forget you had ever been there, your father keeping your identity a secret so that you could remain unseen, giving you the alias of “The Ghost”. Watching him now, how he looked restless, even in sleep, no doubt stuck in another of the nightmares that plague him, you gently touch his forehead, repeating the process you had for the rest of your siblings. The guilt for never taking away the memories that haunt him will always stick with you, but in that moment you can only think about the time that is running out, the footsteps stopping just outside his door. You quickly press a gentle kiss to his forehead, whispering a goodbye as the door slowly swings open, revealing Pogo on the other side._

_“Miss y/n, why are you out of bed?” He asks, and you step away from Klaus walking up to the monkey who, despite his appearance, had been more of a father to you than Reginald had ever been._

_“I’m so sorry, Pogo.” You whisper, touching his head. His eyes go clouded, and you take away the memories of you, watching yourself grow up in his eyes, replacing them with the same fictional story you had given the others. Ducking out of the room before he fully comes back around, you tiptoe up the stairs, heading for the room you most feared. Pushing open the door to your fathers office, you were surprised to find him still sat at the desk, writing in the notebook you had come to steal. You knew you couldn’t make yourself disappear without first removing the pages he had written about you._

_“Number Eight, what do you think you’re doing?” He didn’t look up, and you didn’t respond. You had never been able to defy him, never had the courage, but now, taking a deep breath, you stepped towards the desk. He stopped writing, his head down but his eyes looking up at you over the top of his monocle. He slowly lifted his head as you placed both hands on top of the desk, leaning onto it as you looked directly into his eyes._

_“I’m leaving.” You tell him, his reaction to the declaration going unknown to you, his face unchanging. You channelled your power, staring at him intensely. The ability to use it without touching the target had been the focus of your training for a few years now, but it was seldom successful. Now though, you had no choice, he wasn’t going to allow you near enough to touch him. You focused on the man sat in front of you, pushing yourself into his brain, on the verge of a breakthrough when he slammed his palms onto the table, startling you and causing you to stumble back a little._

_“Enough, Number Eight!” He shouted, unconcerned about waking the others, “If you’re going to leave, then go. The damage to your team is already done, there is no place for you here anymore.” Though it had been your decision, the statement still made you feel as though you were been turned away. You debated grabbing the notebook, but you figured it would pointless, and you didn’t want to give him a reason to come after you, so you turned and left. Walked out of the office, and out the door, turning to look up at the academy one last time, swearing to never return._


End file.
